A Sick Love Story
by RedRoses5
Summary: What do you do when you have resigned to death, and suddenly, it's not an option any more? If you could have a future as bright as the sun, would you fight for it, even if there was a chance the clouds would get in the way? Jacob/OC
1. Prologue

**A/N: This story had been bugging me for a while now, and I had to get it posted. The next chapter is basically already finished. Enjoy. **

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns what you recognize from her books. **

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_Prologue_

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I don't know exactly how it started. One day I was resigned to death, just waiting for the pin to drop, and the next, I was afraid of it. He was at the hospital with his father, whom I conceded was healthy and just getting a check up, looking . . . Like me. It wasn't like he was practically bald, pale as paper, and skinny as a stream bean. The exact opposite actually. A head full of shaggy black hair, beautiful russet skin, tall, thick, and regal. So you see, it wasn't his physical features that were familiar to me in the scratched up mirror I looked in every morning, but it was the expression in his eyes. Empty. Resigned. Lost. He looked like he had his heart smashed into a million pieces. Twice. My look, I guessed, looked more as though I had everything taken away from me in five simple words.

_You have Ewing's Sarcoma cancer. _

I mean, who's even heard of that? I hadn't, that's for sure. The doctors assured me that I had a high survival rate, that my recovery was very likely. That I'd be okay. But, come on, how was I supposed to believe that? I was a seventeen year old girl with a bright future, who thought she was young and healthy. I was young alright, but far from healthy. I guess the cancer kind of made sense, in a way. The continuous achy pains in my bones bothered me all the time. At first, being the ignorant teenager that I was, I shrugged it off as growing pains. But after a few months and still remaining at 5'5, I realized it was far more complicated than that. I'd confessed to my parents about the pains, and they rushed me to the hospital. A few tests, some blood being drawn, and a brutal wait later, I was crushed.

I'd accepted that I had cancer, and was ready to fight it. That was until, I started chemotherapy. The years, and constant conditioning of my long, brown locks, was all thrown away. I was left with a thin veil over my head. A pale comparison to my usual curtain. I felt and looked like crap. It also didn't help when friends stopped being friends when you were suddenly on your deathbed. However, I always had my family. Mom, dad, and my beloved baby sister Lacy. Not to mention the bestest friend a girl could have: Hannah. She was the only one of my so called friends from Forks High to visit me. Not everyday, but at any time she could spare. The gray and white hospital room I'd become so familiar with seemed like a different room with her in it. Much more colorful. On those days I'd feel inspiration to fight. Those kind of days were short and little. They mostly came when my parents visited with Lacy. I'd stare into those big blue eyes, full of such innocence, and I'd think she needed an older sister to look up to when she grew up. But then I'd be injected with poison and I'd go right back down.

The more I pondered it, the more I relented into it. _People would be better off without me. Lucy would be just fine, you're not the best role model. Hannah will survive, she's tougher than a nut. Mom and dad will be upset, but they'd get over it. They had Lacy_. These negative thoughts were more frequent than I'd wish for. It felt like there was a constant cloud looming over me. That was, however, until the sun broke through.

That heartbroken boy turned out to be the thing I needed. The thing I'd fight for. _He_ wasn't really the sun, of course. _His_ smile though, would have you second guessing that. You must think I'm selfish. Being resigned to death, not fighting for even your family. But when a future as bright as _his_ smile opened up to me, I couldn't just let it slip through my fingers. I saw one full of laughing and smiling and family and love.

Love.

That's what saved me. Not necessarily love itself, but _his_ love. It healed me.

My name is Lilac Scarlett Knight, and this is my sick love story.

Pun intended.

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**A/N: So . . ? I really hope this doesn't offend anyone in any way, shape, or form. I'm not an expert on cancer, but I did a bit of research. For anyone who has suffered losses from it, I am terribly sorry. If any of my facts are wrong, don't hesitate to tell me. I hope you like it. :)**


	2. Shocked

**A/N: thank you for all of your follows/favorites/reviews! Amazing! I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it! **

**Another thanks to my lovely reviewers **_Hiddenamoungbooks, _reader5sam, _NeRd999, and _queentygress85.

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns anything you recognize. ;) **

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_Shocked_

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There was only one mirror in which I looked at my reflection anymore. It was scratched up, giving me a slightly distorted image of myself. I loved it. I looked in it twice a day, morning and night. When you don't recognize yourself anymore, you don't want to look in the mirror. Especially when you look like me. I guess I was pretty, nothing special. I hate attention, so people didn't give it to me. But here, at the hospital, it's all I get. Constant questions on my well being, inquiry about my day. It was annoying. If I needed something I'd tell you. My days haven't been so good — obviously — but that's a given.

A lot of people would probably say I'm a horrible person. I'm barely fighting to keep my life, when I should be trying with every last breath. But a lot of people don't know, I'm a complete and utter disappointment to my parents. When you're filthy rich, and your daughter doesn't follow The Rules of Society, you'd probably hate her too. Well, not exactly hate, more like be embarrassed by. Mom and I butt heads the most, an ongoing battle between what she wants, and what I want. In all honesty, she'd probably throw a party if I died. She'd claim it was a memorial. She would play up the tears and talk about me as if she'd actually miss me. I'm pretty sure she'd be relieved not to have the Knight family rebel to screw up her perfect image.

I'm not really a rebel, at least in the sense of hair being died all different colors, doing drugs and drinking alcohol, and failing school. No, I'm a rich kid rebel. Dresses in Old Navy clothes, never goes out, and a 4.0 student. The latter being the only acceptable in my family. According to my mom, I should be wearing top designer brands, going out every other weekend (you don't want to seem like an excessive partier, of course), and honors this, AP that. If staying up until midnight reading a book is considered un-proper, then yeah, I am a rebel.

So here I am, staring at my scratched up reflection. Chocolate brown eyes framed by thin black lashes (they used to be thick, but it's not hard to figure out what happened), high cheekbones not far under, a narrow nose dusted with freckles, full lips, and a strong jawline. The worst part to look at was my hair. Dark brown in color, and little in amount. It was very short. It basically only covered my head and that was it. I missed my long hair that cascaded down my back, so I made sure not to focus on it.

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"Hello Lilac, dear," Jennifer greeted. She made being at the hospital a bit more bearable. She'd let me sit with her at the front desks whenever I wanted. We'd talk, and she would tell me about her three toddlers Jessica, Jaimie, and Jack. Her husband's name is James. They kind of had an obsession with the letter 'J'. Besides that, Jennifer was pretty normal. And she didn't dwell on my sickness, she acted as though I was healthy as a horse.

"Hey Jens, how has this morning treated you?" This was how our days usually started. Nontrivial greetings accompanied by a comfortable friendship. It's kind of weird I'm friends with a thirty year old, but I wouldn't call her an aquatint, she was too kind for that. I'd often find myself wondering why she was working here. She was smart (scarily so), beautiful, and kind. Her beauty was not unnoticed. I had to deal with watching guys hit on her all the time. She was too sweet to say anything rude, so she would just discreetly flash her left hand. Jennifer had blonde hair that was cut in a neat bob, blue eyes, and a killer body. She was the stereotype of a blonde, at least physically. She wasn't an idiot.

"Good, good." And that was it. It was a Saturday morning, she had some patients to check in. I usually sat there like a creeper looking at everybody. There was Taylor Davis, Forks High's most valued basketball player, getting his soon-to-be bum knee checked out. He was about 6'1, brown eyes, blonde hair. He always had on this arrogant smile that made me want to slap the shit out of him. Every Saturday that he came here he'd eye me suspiciously, almost as if he recognized me. When I went to Forks High we had one class together: PE. He had probably nailed me in the gut with a dodgeball five times. Asshole.

Then there was Mr. and Mrs. Gray. The cutest freaking old couple I have ever seen in my life. Mr. Gray was suffering from some cholesterol problems. Mrs. Gray was absolutely hilarious about it, always telling him to eat Cheerios. But what was so adorable about them was, they were always holding hands. They loved each other, plain and simple. They came in every other Saturday, wearing the same content smiles.

Oh, and don't forget Mary. Ah, Mary. She'd been smoking thirty-five years, and nothing had happened. However, when she came in for a checkup, she was diagnosed with lung cancer. She honestly didn't even seem that affected. Mary was a bit . . . Crazy. She had to wear one of those caps to cover the hole over her throat, and she liked to scare people with it. It was a bit funny. She'd walk up to children, take off her scarf, and start talking. They'd always run away screaming. She wasn't _that_ scary. It was her facial expressions, and the crazy stories she would spout. I'm convinced she used to work for the circus.

"Lilac, how are you?" I turned my head to the pristine voice. Carlisle, the coolest doctor ever. He was about 5'10, he had blonde hair, and topaz eyes. Yup, topaz. They were pretty cool, but kind of creepy. Carlisle, from what I'd heard, had a wife (her name was Esme, and she was very, very kind), and had five adoptive kids. Edward, whom I heard married Chief Swan's daughter, Emmett, Rosalie, Alice, and Jasper. I'd actually seen them all, just hadn't met them personally. They had a very close knit group at school, only allowing Bella to sit with them at their table. They were all stunningly gorgeous, I had been surprised to find out they weren't related. They, including Carlisle and Esme, were all . . . Perfect. They even had the same eye color! But they weren't harming anyone, so I let my suspicions go. The only other weird thing about them was that they were all, like together. Together, _together_. Alice and Jasper, Emmett and Rosalie, and now Edward and Bella. The last couple wasn't so weird but . . . I don't know. I really didn't want to judge considering I barely knew them.

"Doctor Carlisle, I'm doing just dandy this fine February morning. How about yourself?" He chuckled. That's what I liked about Carlisle, when he laughed or smiled, I would instantly forget my suspicions. He was a kind man.

"I'm glad to hear that, Lilac. As for me, I'm doing quite well. Thank you for asking." Carlisle was a bit . . . Formal. I didn't mind, he reminded me of the Englishmen in my books.

"No problemo," I smiled. But he didn't smile back, more like stiffened.

"I'm sorry to leave you in such a hurry, but I should get going. More patients to treat. I'll see you soon, Lilac," he said brusquely, already heading to the elevator. It looks like someone forgot they're in the middle of brain surgery.

"Hello Billy, how are you?" I heard Jennifer ask. Oh, Billy. He was from the Native American tribe close by, the Quiliutes, I think. From the months I'd been in here, I knew he came here about once a month.

"I'm doing just fine, thanks Jennifer. How 'bout yourself?" Billy looked to be in about his mid forties. He would have been standing pretty tall, maybe about six feet, if it weren't for the fact that he was wheelchair bound. I'd learned that it was due to diabetes. He looked kind and wise, very wise. His long black — slightly gray — hair was topped with a worn cowboy hat. His eyes though, looked like they held many secrets.

"I'm doing great, thanks for asking. And may I ask who this young man is?" That snapped my attention away from Billy and to his companion. He usually brought a woman close to his age, Sue, if I recall right, with him. This guy was no Sue, that's for sure. He stood damn near seven feet tall, and was built with absolute power. Even with jean clad legs, I could still notice the muscles in them. His arms were like tree trunks, ending with big hands. He wasn't over muscled in that disgusting way, although I knew his body held more power than those with that kind of body did. He had broad shoulders and a wide chest, leading down to a toned stomach and narrow hips. He almost looked lean. His height made his mass of muscles balance, so they weren't all scrunched up into a huge blob of muscle. All of this was layered under a beautiful russet skin tone that had to look copper in the moonlight. His face was contorted into a glare, but he still looked painfully handsome nonetheless. He had a head full of thick and shaggy chin length hair, the same jet black as his eyebrows. Chocolate brown eyes darker than mine, placed under those deep set brows. A long narrow nose, plump and full lips, and a jaw sharper than mine.

Yeah, this definitely wasn't Sue.

"This is my son, Jacob," to his name being called, he turned his head away from the elevator.

"Oh, son! Well, hello Jacob. I'm glad that you could come here with your father. He talks about you a lot, you know. Good things, I assure you." Billy mentioned he had a son, but never really talked about him. If my son glared at elevators for no apparent reason, I wouldn't talk about him either.

He gave a small — not very sincere — smile, "Hi, dad talks about you too." His voice was very deep and husky. It left my ears tingling.

Jennifer smiled back — much more sincere, "Good things, I hope?" Jacob nodded his head. "Well, I knew Billy had kids, but not your age. He doesn't look a day over thirty," she chuckled.

"He's seventeen, as of last month," Billy interjected. Seeing our surprised faces he adds, "Kids grow like weeds these days."

"Yeah, they sure do! Well Billy, if you could just sign these, I can get Dr. Gold to come check you out."

While Billy was busy signing the papers, I felt someone's eyes on me. I glanced up and was met with the eyes of Jacob. I gasped. His eyes were full of emptiness. They held a broken heart and a lost soul. I was staring at eyes like that in the mirror mere hours ago. And then, they disappeared out of sight. He fell. To his knees. He fell to the ground, on his knees. Jennifer was quick to check on him. I stood up, looking down at his overwhelmed face, staring directly at my bewildered one.

"Jacob! Do you need water? Are you okay? Can you hear me?" Jennifer's frantic words barely touched my ears. I was still looking at the shocked face of Jacob. I switched my gaze to Billy, whose eyes were darting between me and his son, then suddenly lit with understanding. A slow smirk adjourned his face.

"I — I'm fine. T—thanks," Jacob breathed, standing to his feet. He still looked pretty shocked.

"Let's go get you some water, dear." With that, Jennifer led Jacob out of the room. He looked like he had seen something out of this world. And he was still staring at me with a weird look.

"So . . . That was awkward," I muttered to Billy.

"Yeah, just a bit. Excuse me if I'm being rude, but what is your name?" How was that rude? Oh, his son was just staring me down, and he doesn't want to seem like a creeper too.

I extended my hand, "Lilac," he raised his eyebrows, "yes, like the flower."

"A beautiful name for a beautiful girl." I wanted to tell him to stop bullshitting me, that I looked horrible, but I didn't. It had been so long since anyone had said that. I blushed a thank you. "So, what are you in for?" Did he seriously just ask that? Again, I wanted to yell at him, but I couldn't. He was blunt. It was like a breath of fresh air from all the sugarcoating.

"Cancer. Ewing's Sarcoma."

"Is it treatable?" He inquired.

"Yeah, it is. It's basically at the point where it could either go really bad, or turn really good. It's a waiting game, that's for sure." At the rate I'm going, it will probably go really bad.

"I'm sorry about my son, he's a bit, ugh, strange." I laughed.

"You know Billy, I've seen you in here a few times. I'm a bit mad at myself for not talking to you sooner. You're pretty cool." He grinned at me.

"I'm so sorry for that Billy, Jacob is just fine. He's laying down right now, and should be up and going in ten," Jens came in. Jacob was probably dehydrated. Maybe that's why he was staring at me, he was having hallucinations.

"No problem, Jennifer. I was actually enjoying myself here with Lilac," Billy stated. Wow, someone enjoyed my company. Billy must be as crazy as his son.

"Lilac is quite the charmer, isn't she?" I snorted. "Well Billy, thanks for signing everything, Dr. Gold should be right out." For some reason unknown to me, Billy refused to see Dr. Cullen. He was the best doctor we had.

"Thank you Jennifer, and I'll be seeing you soon Lilac," Billy said. He probably wouldn't, but it was a kind gesture.

"Yeah, see you soon."

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It'd been about twenty minutes since Jacob flipped out, and I haven't seen him yet. He probably found some other way out, or just went looking for his dad. Which might be hard considering he wasn't here when Dr. Gold took him to his room. Now Jacob is probably searching every room looking for him. He could've just asked Jennifer. Imbecile. He's probably embarrassed by his little freak out. I would be too.

"Jennifer? Jennifer? Jennifer!"

"Yes, Lilac?" She wasn't even annoyed. I'll tell you, she's too kind for her own good sometimes.

"Can I have two dollars, please?" I really wanted a Three Musketeers bar. The vending machine was only three halls over.

"Why?"

"I want a Three Musketeers bar," I stated bluntly. It was pretty obvious, I don't know why she always asked why.

She sighed, "Did you already have breakfast?" I nodded my head vigorously. "Something healthy, I presume?" Again, I nodded my head. She sighed again, "Fine." She reached for her purse and pulled out a worn leather wallet. Too nice, I tell you.

"Thanks Jens, I owe you," I usually gave her the expensive chocolates my 'friends' would send me. She was a sucker for Godiva.

The long hallways never got any less creepier. I almost had a panic attack the first few times I'd walk through here. It's gotten much easier with time. It took me awhile to get to the vending machine considering every step hurt like a bitch. Maybe I should have taken the wheelchair they offered. I would have to be really weak to actually accept it.

What I liked about this particular hallway was, no one ever walked through it. It was creepy as hell, accompanied by a few flickering lights. The floor was also unnaturally cold, even to my fuzzy sock clad feet. I was convinced this hallway was haunted. I don't know why, of all places, they'd place a vending machine here. Talk about bad business.

I slipped in the two dollar bills and typed the numbers for my candy. I had it memorized. I ignored how my hand slightly shook from the effort. I was pathetic.

"Hey," came a husky voice from behind me.

I must've jumped ten feet. "Wholly shit! Are you trying to scare me? I almost died of a heart attack!" I turned around to glare at the asshole, but I stopped dead in my tracks. It was Jacob.

"I — I'm sorry. I — I didn't mean to scare you. I'm Jacob," he apologized, offering his huge hand to me. I looked up at his face, yes, up. I stood a couple inches below his collar bone. He looked incredibly sincere. And nervous. The hand not outstretched to me was rubbing the back of his neck.

I slowly slid my hand into his, partially from hesitance, and partially from pain. "Lilac," I offered. I tried to ignore the sparks that shot up my arm, or the fact that the pain that I had become so used to dulled considerably. His hand was very big, practically swallowing mine whole. And warm, really warm.

"Lilac," he repeated. I tried not to shiver. My name never sounded better. What the hell was wrong with me? Must be the lack of chocolate. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Pleasures mine," I told him, slipping my hand out of his. Every cancerous cell in my body protested. I then went to retrieve my chocolate bar. I tried very hard not to grimace from bending down, but from the look on Jacob's face, it was a wasted effort. However, he didn't say anything.

Deciding I needed to sit down, I took the few steps to a — very conveniently placed — set of chairs. The plushy kind, not those horrible stiff ones.

Again, I struggled to not show my pain as I was sitting down, and like earlier, my face probably made me unsuccessful. Jacob placed and easing hand on my back. The pain almost instantly dissipated. "Thanks," I whispered. I wasn't usually perverse to being helped out. But the people who tried to help me didn't have healing hands.

"No problem," he said. I didn't feel comfortable eating my candy bar with him watching. I hated when people watched me eat food. It was weird. A few silent moments later, "Lilac?" I hummed to let him know I was listening. "W—what are you here for? You don't have to answer if you don't want to." I'd been asked this question many times, yet it was still hard to admit it. To admit how weak I was. I really didn't have to say it, you could see it.

"I have Ewing's Sarcoma Cancer." Five words that can make any conversation awkward. I turned my head to see his expression. I wish I hadn't. It was devastated. I didn't know why he'd care.

"I — I — are you gonna be okay?" Somehow, he picked up on the fact that I didn't like sympathy.

"I don't know. It's at the stage where it could go really bad, or really good. I just have to wait," I'd said around the same thing to many people. I wasn't lying. I just didn't tell them it was probably going to go bad. Jacob looked pretty heartbroken. And kind of pissed off. "Why do you have that look on your face?"

"What look?" That look that is confusing the hell out of me. You don't know me, why are you sad? Why do you care?

"Well, you look sad and angry. For like, no apparent reason."

"Your just too good of a person to be here," he answered. What the hell? Good?

"You don't even know me. How would you know? I could be the filthiest human being in the hospital." I wasn't, that was Mr. Beck, he smelt like rotten eggs and year old garbage.

"I'm an . . . Excellent judge of character." Smooth Jacob, smooth.

"Well, I am in here. Probably will be until I die. A good or bad person. It doesn't matter." Jesus, I sure knew how to put a damper on things. Jacob's expression changed. He looked curious, more like he was trying to figure me out. It should have made me uncomfortable, but the fact that he was even taking the time to try to, was flattering.

"What are you fighting for?" Wholly shit being blunt seriously ran in the family. No one, and I mean _no one_ had ever asked me that.

"I don't know, nothing really seems worth the fight anymore," I answered honestly. His facial expression stayed the same, it was deep, and very intense.

"Well, we'll have to change that." What was up with this guy?

"How?" I honestly couldn't think of anything worth it anymore.

"I'm gonna show you that there are things worth fighting for." He has got to be kidding me.

"And how are you going to do that?" He smiled, this time a very sincere one.

"Can I visit you tomorrow?" I was dumbfounded. What the hell? Why in the world would he want that?

"U—Ugh, yeah, I — I mean if you want," of course he wants to he just fucking asked if he could. Wait, maybe he doesn't want to, maybe it's out of sympathy. I searched his eyes, there was no trace of sympathy. Only a sparkle that glinted dangerously. This was a bad idea. A very bad idea. That only made it all the more intriguing.

"Good," Jacob sat up from the chair next to me. "We should get back, my dad is probably done by now," he said. "Now let's get you back to your spinning chair by Jennifer," he scooped me up in his arms. My arms immediately locked around his neck.

"Jacob! What are you doing?" Seriously dude! And how did he know about my beloved chair? He must've been paying more attention than I thought.

"What kind of man would I be to let you walk back there?" His right arm was locked securely under my knees, while his left was placed under my back. He was really warm. And comfy. I would never admit that to him.

"A smart one." He chuckled, a glorious sound. What happened to the shadow of a boy? "What did Jennifer give you?" I asked, while he carried me. He looked at me funny, so I elaborated. "When you came in earlier you were . . . Upset. Now you're all in good spirits." Maybe he had a bipolar disorder?

"Oh, that. I was just upset because I lost a friend. My best friend. She died, in a way," he said quietly. Huh, some friend. Made one hell of an impression to get that look on his face. More like an almost lover. "But, it seems I made a new one."

"I wouldn't go that far." By the time we reached Jennifer, Billy was already there checking out. They both turned their heads towards us. Billy smiled, and Jens gaped. I didn't normally let people help me. She knew that.

Jacob placed me in the infamous spinning chair with such grace, I was shocked. He was so big you would think he'd be clumsy.

"Thank you Jacob, that was very kind of you to help Lilac like that," Jennifer said.

"No problem. I'll see you tomorrow, Lilac?" Jacob asked. I felt Jennifer's shock. Billy didn't seem that surprised, more smug than anything.

"Yeah, see you tomorrow Jacob," I confirmed. The lost feeling of anticipation slowly flooded me. He grinned in response — something absolutely breathtaking. It was like the sun broke through the mass of gray clouds I'd confined myself in. I found it in myself to smile back, my dimples making their first appearance since October.

With that, Jacob pushed Billy out, giving me one last smile before he was gone.

"What was that about?" Jens broke me out of my reverie. What _was_ that about? I found myself not caring.

"I don't know."

My fate had inadvertently changed forever.

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**A/N: whatcha think? I hope everyone likes it! This is such a stark different personality from what I'm used to writing. And Lilac's hair is like Alice's hair in Breaking Dawn Part 1 and 2. Thanks for all of the support! :)**


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